Odd Fellows pose ~
Wis Guthrie's DIRT MONSTER
and WINGED CREATURE
join KD Cat for a special Halloween scare
with full moon
^,^
Normally Conservative Jon T.
- leading Waukesha businessman -
wears dress-down marijuana socks
at the editor's Odd Fellows poor man's penthouse
on Halloween night, 11-1-17
^,^
Dallas Oregon writer, retired US Army Major,
G. Nel O'Neil
(see Avalon Reflections)
dons unwidely disseminated uniform of the annual night.
^,^
Flight CANCELLED
At Angels Grace Hospice, Oconomowoc, WI
This editor spent two weeks at the runway terminal
in October of 2017, as though just prior hacking impassably
through a dense jungle with a dull machette.
At last, exhausted, tight vines
twisting all around him holding him down,
a vast runway clear of all impediments appeared
before him stretching to a far blue-skied horizon.
He taxied onto this glorious airstrip
ready for take-off at last but
he could not pull the engine throttle back.
It was not time for departure.
This flight was cancelled.
This was just a dream that could not spoil his take on
the facility. Situated on a peninsula with a small lake
called simply The Pond on three sides, in a wilderness setting,
with sandhill cranes making a seasonal encampment in
their migratory pattern, roaming the grounds searching for grubs
in the landscape mulching
or sheering tender greens sprouting from rained-upon birdseed
beneath the many birdfeeders on hospice patients'
patios;
with tranquil walkways around the pond shore.
The blue pond is at the foot of this zinnia-plaited outdoor area.
The building is shaped in a hexagonal configuration
with a central living room, and the six spokes house the patients' private rooms,
each with their own patio.
Dee waters a plant. She brought a compass so the Raccoonteur could tell where he was.
A recently acquired dragonfly metal sculpture sat on his solo patio
where whole beds could be rolled out onto the lushly-surrounded
cement flats.
Flight CANCELLED
At Angels Grace Hospice, Oconomowoc, WI
This editor spent two weeks at the runway terminal
in October of 2017, as though just prior hacking impassably
through a dense jungle with a dull machette.
At last, exhausted, tight vines
twisting all around him holding him down,
a vast runway clear of all impediments appeared
before him stretching to a far blue-skied horizon.
He taxied onto this glorious airstrip
ready for take-off at last but
he could not pull the engine throttle back.
It was not time for departure.
This flight was cancelled.
This was just a dream that could not spoil his take on
the facility. Situated on a peninsula with a small lake
called simply The Pond on three sides, in a wilderness setting,
with sandhill cranes making a seasonal encampment in
their migratory pattern, roaming the grounds searching for grubs
in the landscape mulching
or sheering tender greens sprouting from rained-upon birdseed
beneath the many birdfeeders on hospice patients'
patios;
with tranquil walkways around the pond shore.
Many donations to keep this lovely place are recorded.
The blue pond is at the foot of this zinnia-plaited outdoor area.
The building is shaped in a hexagonal configuration
with a central living room, and the six spokes house the patients' private rooms,
each with their own patio.
Dee waters a plant. She brought a compass so the Raccoonteur could tell where he was.
A recently acquired dragonfly metal sculpture sat on his solo patio
where whole beds could be rolled out onto the lushly-surrounded
cement flats.
As he was expected to soon expire
he was afforded all the salted french fries
and hot fudge malts he could consume.
No one was counting.
Similarly the popcorn was free, 24-7.
A large frog crockery stood at the end of one of the halls.
Son-in-law Ben brought this satellite shot print
from his Lawrence University home computer complex,
allowing a raccoonoitering when the editor was still
confined to his bed.
Dee's compass also helped.
^,^
John and Janelle brought this harbinger of a future year to come
as a gift the other evening.
His marijuana socks by the way were a gift from a playful friend
who sings with him in the church choir.
He may be arch, but he's also ANYTHING GOES.
